Arkadia
by Hane no Zaia
Summary: AU. Arkadia Online, aka AO: a virtual reality multiplayer online RPG developed by Ark Enterprises. Allen Walker: a truant turned dropout looking to make a living off of it. Tyki Mikk: Allen's shady acquaintance. Lavi Bookman: an American history major with major concerns.
1. A-I

_If any of you recall an old discontinued (and by now since a long time deleted) story of mine named DGM, this is what became of it. Cheers!_

**- ****o0o -**

– **A-****I **–

**- ****o0o -**

Pain.

It was inexplicable – as it should not be possible – yet agonisingly real, to him at any rate.

His heart – pounding like crazy – seemed strangely intent on trying to open up a hole to escape his ribcage, possibly mirroring his own feelings about the matter and possibly not.

In either case, it resonated clearly within him much quicker and flightier than he remembered.

In the end, it was only what remained of his steely self-control that prevented his breathing from adopting the same erratic patterns, as a case of hyperventilation was nothing that he needed on top of it all, as he was already getting lightheaded enough from the blood oozing from the deep cut in his left palm.

Next to the slowly growing pool of dark red liquid lay a discarded helmet and he found himself regarding them both with a strange kind of detachment before his mind switched back into a more practical mode, cold sweat still clinging to his skin.

The injury was hardly a life-threatening one – not at all actually – but he still swayed a bit when he rose up from his seated position on the floor next to the couch.

The blood flow had yet to subside even as he had managed to drag himself over to the small bathroom and into it, running water over the cut both to clean it up and to wash away additional blood in order to get a better look at the cut itself.

What he glimpsed there – through the jet of water – had him abruptly withdrawing his hand and stumbling backwards.

Over the sink, his own reflection regarded him just as he regarded it, wearing mirroring expressions of shock.

Then, shock was once again forced to give way to his sense of self-preservation, which in turn allowed his sense of practicality free reign to ignore all abnormalities and to focus solely on the more important matter at hand, namely putting a stop to the bleeding.

Having virtually been forced to mummify his own hand to accomplish the aforementioned task, he finally sunk down into the couch, cradling his left hand whilst once again staring down at the small pool of blood and at the discarded helmet right next to it.

Once he finally came to – six hours and sixteen minutes later – there was no blood, and – unwinding the bandages to confirm for himself – he found that there was no wound there; no mark, no nothing.

That was the first time that he came to wonder whether or not he was going crazy.

It wasn't the last either, as he – despite knowing better – continued to pursue his goals, even whilst knowing what he did about just what they could end up costing him.

From the very start, he had known that it was a bad idea.

He had known it was a bad idea, and he had known it well, but…

But…

**-****o0o -**

It had been a stupid idea; he had known that much from the very start.

Besides, though he had always had a bit of an affinity for playing games, gaming ‒ online or otherwise ‒ had never been his forte.

Though he had always been a bit of a thrill seeker, his primary objective had always been money, and most games online tended to either cost money or be a waste of time, which was practically the same thing as far as Allen himself was concerned.

After all, it wasn't as though he had the liberty to be wasteful, and considering his current predicament, he would do well to continue keeping a low profile in real life.

After all, by now, social services ought to have become aware of the full extent of his situation, and as such, they ought to be out looking for him still, even after the number of months that had passed since he had gone underground.

As far as Allen himself was concerned, they ‒ them being the social services ‒ had been the ones at fault to begin with; leaving him at the mercy of a person like Cross, what had they been thinking?

On the other hand, in hindsight, it was something that Allen had grown to appreciate.

After all, even though it had been a very trying experience, it had certainly expanded his resourcefulness, and the latter had definitely been to his benefit upon his return to the UK, in attaining a financial lifeline and in going underground whilst he was at it.

After all, despite only just having turned sixteen, Allen Walker was resourceful.

Having travelled a lot both in his youth and with Cross, he had known better than to be deterred by the thought of living like a vagrant; he had done so before, and he would likely do so again at some point in time, but with CCTV-surveillance and certain people likely to be on the lookout for him, now was hardly the time for such endeavours.

Before that, before he could go out on his next adventure, money was needed.

Whether it was a stupid idea or not, he had needed money along with an escape, and when he had been presented with an option that provided a chance of both he had taken it, ignoring the possible repercussions of this decision.

Life was not a game; he knew that for a fact, but life still bore an ironic resemblance to it. If life was indeed a game, then he had gotten a very bad hand this round and was thereby bound to lose.

In turn, this led to the second thing that he had learned about life, namely that cheating might be risky, but it usually paid off more in the end than honesty did and in his position, honesty was hardly affordable, and especially not when there was money – no, his very financial independence – at stake.

Admittedly, a part of his occasionally rather unconventional upbringing had conditioned him to activities such as gambling, and a thrill seeker or not, he was well aware of the risks. However, risks or not, the foster care system was a place that he would rather not return to if he could avoid it.

Perhaps it was indeed so that he had just been exceptionally unlucky in regards to his placements, or perhaps higher powers merely despised cheaters such as him. Then again, having been disfavoured from the very start, he could either stay in the mud or rise from it using his own skills as opposed to luck, seeing that luck was far less reliable than skill.

Then again, that was not to say that luck was entirely useless…

Months prior, after secretly living on his own for more than a year, he had been summoned.

He had been summoned and he had accepted, dropping out of school and mostly off the face of the Earth whilst he was at it.

Admittedly, he had already made quite a name for himself in regards to truancy, so he had imagined that people had either already given up on him or ought to have been on the verge of doing so at that point.

Truthfully, this had suited him as he too had given up on his potential career as an academic when he had realised that he was probably screwed anyway, with or without decent GCSEs.

Even without having a slight record due to some minor instances of _misdemeanour_ as they had put it, Allen had already known that in the eyes of mainstream society, he was – and had probably always been – a lost cause, which probably played a part in their decision not to remove him from his official guardian – Cross Marian – despite the man's obvious inability to act out the part.

Still, as had already been mentioned, in hindsight, this was something that Allen was thankful for. After all, whilst generally a lousy guardian and definitely a pathetic excuse for a human being as far as the lack of compassion was concerned, Cross had – upon dragging him all the way over to India and abandoning him there – ultimately made things easier for him. It had ultimately provided him with the leverage necessary to blackmail those responsible for putting him with Cross in the first place, keeping them from shoving him right back into the system when reports arose that Cross had been murdered – reports that were obviously bullshit, seeing that Cross was the type of person who would not die even if one very wittingly had a go at killing him.

Admittedly, there was also a slight chance that it was true and that the red-haired womanising drunkard was no more. All in all though, Allen was fairly convinced about that Cross had faked his own death in order to escape his escalating debts, and presumably also to cash in on some ridiculous life insurance through whoever was his current spouse.

In either case, Allen was content with the fact that he no longer had to deal with either, even if it did give rise to a problem in regards to who would stand in as his guardian until he reached his age of majority, as the chance of him becoming an emancipated minor was small, all things considered. Then again, he was hardly an expert on legalities now, was he?

As for the latter, he had rather come to wish that he had just a bit more knowledge in the matter when a job opportunity – which sounded more than just a tad too good to be true – had opted to present itself, leaving him in his current situation or predicament, depending on how one chose to view it.

_Arkadia Online_, developed by Ark Enterprises, was a VRMMORPG – a Virtual Reality Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game. In any case, both the acronym and the actual term were far too long for his taste, so he opted to use AO instead, which soon became the trend amongst most players.

Then again, compared to them ‒ to most of them, at any rate ‒ he was practically a veteran, having participated in the Beta Deal and everything.

_Arkadia Online_.

Despite its initial tediousness, the game eventually became kind of fun in itself as long as one had decent company – that is, none whatsoever – and kept it simple.

Hunt, sell, steal (subtly), sell, level up, rinse, repeat.

Complications were a bother; complications were unneeded.

Complications were…

He watched as a fair number of jellyfish bobbed up and down in the aquarium.

It had probably been a bad idea to come. Then again, he had a feeling that it would probably have been an equally bad idea not to come, all things considered.

Turning his head to the side, he surveyed his general surroundings, surveying the people moving about within them.

In real life, there were no tracking spells. And, seeing that they had not exchanged numbers or anything, making contact now was difficult, seeing that neither had informed the other of their actual name.

Gradually, he became more engrossed in crowd watching, up until the point that he visibly startled as a semi-familiar redhead stepped up right next to him, seemingly staring intently at the jellyfish out in the tank.

"Uwa… pretty."

That voice.

He shifted his posture slightly, turning his head a bit. "Lavi?"

The redhead shot him a sideways glance and a small grin. "Lavi Bookman."

He looked at the other, retaining his deadpan expression. "That's your real name."

The grin widened slightly. "It is."

"And you're really an American college student?"

"Yep."

He hesitated briefly. "Then what about…?"

"He's is my guardian ‒ well, used to be, I suppose. Bookman, that is," the other responded, turning towards him fully now. "Now, shall we get going, _Red Rogue_?"

He gave rise to an exasperated sigh. "As long as we're both being honest, I'm Allen."

An arched eyebrow met his response. "No last name?"

He snorted, averting his eyes. "Does it matter?"

"Heh." The other chuckled slightly turning on his heel. "I guess not."

Complications were a bother; complications were unneeded.

Complications were…

Despite supposedly knowing better, he followed.

**- ****o0o -**


	2. B-II

_..._

**- ****o0o -**

– **B-II **–

**- ****o0o -**

The hospital – he had always hated it. To him, rather than to be a place of comfort and healing, it was a place of sickness and despair; of death and of decay. It was a sterile environment; unfeeling and impersonal, yet ever-tainted with the emotions stemming from the highs and lows of the human existence.

There was hope in there – somewhere – but he had never been foolish enough to allow himself to be deceived by it and had only viewed it from afar, in those who either knew no better or did whatever they could to keep up appearances.

Admittedly, most made it – well, more or less, depending on what had been ailing them in the first place – but that same principle did not necessarily apply to all, and particularly not to those important to him.

Then again, in the case of Mana, there had only really been one possible outcome in the first place.

Allen had always hated the hospital and the false hopes the aforementioned institution had come to represent in his mind, but that in itself did not mean that it did not have its uses.

Thanks to the disapproving but understanding Doctor Murazaki, he had received a clear bill of health despite inconclusive results, and along with a falsified signature on his contract, the road to taking part of the Beta Deal lay open to him.

In the lobby of Ark Enterprisers, he had taken his time looking through the contract before signing it. Doing anything else would have been stupid after all; signing something without taking the time to study the fine print.

As things turned out, getting a clean bill beforehand had merely been a case of formality, as the contract itself had stated that any signee would themselves be held liable for any financial, mental or physical damage, whilst the company could not be held accountable or be prosecuted on any grounds by either signees or by their next of kin. In other words, if anyone did get injured whilst on the job, the company would not be held liable to pay any damages.

A truly comforting thought indeed… or not.

Either way, the contract had presented a slight problem in his case, seeing that a temporary guardian had yet to be assigned to stand in for Cross, and that he had at least officially needed some sort of parental consent to participate in this kind of…

"Is this seat taken?"

He had lifted his gaze, finding himself face to face with a messy-haired man with a hobo-like appearance, wearing baggy old clothes and a pair of round and rather ugly glasses.

Then again, it was decidedly rude to assume so many things about a person just from their first appearance – which was generally important, but by no means definite in terms of determining their character.

If anything, Allen himself – with his white hair and scarred face – should know that himself. "Is it?" he had finally said, sparing a sideways glance at the aforementioned seat.

"Hoh, a smartass," the other had responded, occupying it and pulling his glasses off, positively leering at him with strange almost amber-coloured eyes. "Are you also here for the Beta Deal?"

The dishevelled-looking amber-eyed man had been Tyki Mikk, a shady person in his mid-twenties with a shady past and a wry sense of humour to go with it.

**-****o0o -**

Later, on that very same day, Allen had found himself standing outside a somewhat rundown apartment complex with a pair of keys in his hand. On his back was a backpack and he was balancing a heavy sports bag on one of his shoulders and had a rolled-up sleeping bag on top of it, and finally, he had something which looked remarkably much like a helmet tucked under his arm.

All in all, he imagined that he had made quite a spectacle, but it wasn't as though he had had any additional money for taxi fares after he had managed to secure a new place to live at a very short notice, after his former guardian's debts had ensured that various loan sharks and their hired hands would continue harassing him for the money as long as he stayed in what had been their temporary abode.

Now, he supposed they would merely have to do with selling off the stuff that he had left behind at the apartment. The latter was a fact that hadn't concerned him all that much, since it was mostly Cross' stuff anyway, and as far as he himself was concerned, the man – if he was still alive – surely deserved it.

However, seeing that there were certain things that could never be replaced – and due to the goodness of his own heart, if one chose to view it in such a manner – he had actually bothered to snatch a few of the other's personal affects and memorabilia, namely those that were small enough to fit into any of his bags and light enough not to add all that much to his already heavy burden.

As far as he was concerned, by doing this, he had mostly severed the link which had up until then remained between them, and in this "new" apartment, neither his nor Cross' name were on the contract.

All in all, he had supposed that this ought to be the beauty of renting things off the record from a recently rehabilitated alcoholic turned missionary, who full of good-will against the world had needed someone to look after his apartment while he himself was off somewhere in Africa, trying to save the world or something.

Judgement coloured by a healthy amount of realism, Allen had inwardly given the other three months until the latter either took to the bottle again or got himself killed, either of which case would likely result in the termination of their unofficial agreement.

However, three months had still been three months, and he had made sure to lay low during that time. And, having decided to extend his period of truancy to virtual infinity, he had most certainly had more than enough time on his hands to complete his own part of the Beta Deal, and then some.

The apartment had been cramped and dark; it ought to have been a truly depressing sight to some, but Allen was of a more practical disposition.

As far as he had been concerned, it had suited his purposes just fine with its small bathroom, half-empty freezer and old but still perfectly functional microwave.

Admittedly, the small kitchenette in general had been an area and a challenge that even he – who had seen and experienced some very, very, _very_ messy places throughout the course of his life – hadn't managed to muster the courage to take on. He could also very much have done without the fridge filled with a surprisingly varied collection of mould that had found a nearly ideal breeding ground on the various scraps of food that had at some point shared the fridge with the numerous beer cans that still occupied it.

Then again, Allen had also been painfully aware that things would hardly improve as long as he himself did nothing, but he had also reasoned that as long as he kept the door to it firmly sealed and assembled enough money to buy the equipment necessary to decontaminate it, he hardly needed to involve himself.

All in all, the place had been in a rather sorry state – a clear testament to the mental state of its only inhabitant, both shortly before and after said inhabitant's sudden religious experience. However, it had also come with a very fast Internet connection that he had been allowed to use, and free of charge at that.

The fast connection had definitely been a plus, all things considered. However…

Less than a month later, he had packed his stuff and left the apartment, seeing that its original tenant – the recently un-rehabilitated alcoholic – had returned, having lost his job and confidence so to say, and gained the keys to his apartment in return.

All in all, Allen had found that he did not mind all that much, seeing that he now had someone else's couch to crash on up until the point that he found a new place to live.

Admittedly, Tyki's place wasn't all that tidy either, but it was all in all still in a much better condition than the apartment that he had lived in during the previous month, and it wasn't as though he actually spent all that much time looking at it either, seeing that he had resumed his gaming even after the Beta Deal had ended. There was more money to make after all, and occasionally rather easily at that, seeing that he had managed to attain quite a high level by then.

Tyki on the other hand had landed some sort of job that seemingly took place mostly during the odd hours. Allen didn't pry. Admittedly, they shared the same living space and usually at least one meal a day, but other than that, their lives – both online and offline – remained mostly separated.

Truth to be told, Allen honestly didn't mind, and truth to be told, he found that he would rather not know what Tyki was up to whenever the latter left the apartment to head off to work, wherever that was.

After all, he too had his own secrets to keep, some of which were more recent than others.

After Tyki pulled on his coat and disappeared out the door with a wave, Allen slowly rose from his seat and made his way over to the door, locking it before commandeering the couch and then Tyki's laptop, which had conveniently enough been left on and logged in so that Allen could snoop around all that he wanted, if he wanted to do so.

Staring at the screen, Allen considered it for a second before shrugging it off.

After all, even with such an opportunity, it wasn't as though he wished to pry, or at least not beyond making sure that he wasn't in any immediate kind of danger.

Then again, he had always considered himself a fairly decent judge of character. And, while Allen strongly suspected that the other was involved in some type of unsavoury business, he didn't exactly feel threatened – well, not most of the time at any rate.

If such had indeed been the case, then living with the other – however brief the time that they actually spent together – would have been rather difficult, if not nearly impossible and particularly so if the other was indeed a gangster, a secret agent or possible even a hit man or a serial killer.

In either such case, then it was arguable that Allen was probably better off knowing so that he would be able to know when and where and how he could possibly expect to be stabbed in the back, possibly even literally.

Certain precautions might be needed after all.

Then again, if the other was really any of the aforementioned, then Allen doubted that he was the man's target or the target of any of the man's affiliates.

Thus, instead of looking into the other's background, he settled for checking the news before putting the laptop away and picking up his gaming equipment instead.

Opening up his bag, he pulled out a cable and connected one end of it to the slot in the wall and the other to his router.

Sitting himself down on the worn-out couch with the helmet in his hands, he took a deep breath before putting it on and pressing the ON-button on the side of it, bringing it back to life.

Truth to be told, the thing probably had a fancier name than _Helmet_, but why would that matter to him?

Leaning his head back, he screwed his eyes shut, already feeling the preliminary of a later onslaught of migraine.

From the very start, he had known it that was a stupid idea, and he had known it well. Still, he had needed and still needed the money – and the escape that was provided from him earning it was merely a bonus, and especially so with recent circumstances limiting his physical movements.

Had he been a gaming enthusiast – or purely an escapist unable to face his own reality – then he would probably have marvelled more at the technology and whatnot instead of at the moneymaking opportunity that it presented.

Having completed his time as a beta tester, he had been left with a moderately sized monetary reward and the opportunity to continue playing without buying anything and without being forced to part with any of the virtual items and skills that he had managed to attain during his time as a beta tester.

Admittedly, he had already sold off the items that he didn't have much use for, and those that still remained in his possession were ones that he could make use of in order to collect even more of them, through means that varied largely depending on the opportunities that presented themselves in the game.

Since _Arkadia Online_'s official release mere weeks prior, he had actually contemplated selling his gaming console when the demand was high and the supply limited. Having made a few calculations on his various alternatives however, he eventually concluded that he would probably be able to earn more money through the game than he would through selling his console.

Had he been more geared towards technology, then he would probably have paused to admire the technological marvel that it was, as it was capable of simulating sensory stimuli, allowing for a very real virtual experience. Of course, it was also capable of blocking signals, rendering the user's limbs paralysed without interfering with any essential bodily functions. Truth to be told, it was kind of like entering a dream state whilst remaining conscious as a multitude of electromagnetic signals continuously attacked one's brain, bombarding it with various types of information.

Then again, technically speaking a technological marvel or not, Allen – having actually read all the way through the fine print in the instruction manual – was indeed aware of the fact that said technological marvel was also technically speaking perfectly capable of frying his brain if it short-circuited, which was obviously a risk and hardly one to be taken lightly.

In regards to AO itself and the forums talking about it, he was hardly one to participate in the aforementioned discussions as anything more than the occasional _"lurker"_, since it generally paid off being well-informed about what was going on in general.

Thus, he was by no means completely ignorant about matters – whether said matters directly affected him or not – but that in itself did not necessarily mean that he strove to deepen his knowledge beyond what he deemed necessary in order to a) accomplish his objective, whatever it may be, and b) to either get away unnoticed or simply get away in general, as players were gradually improving and had grown better at protecting their acquired property.

In addition, it obviously hadn't helped that his handle had at some point become attached to his various accomplishments, earning him a certain kind of notoriety in some circles.

Viewing it all in hindsight however, he could not help but wonder whether or not he had in a way anticipated his own eventual rise to infamy, seeing that he had foregone using his actual name as some had a tendency of doing, and had instead opted for one that few – if any – would ever connect to his person in real life.

The Red Rogue – he had come to dub his avatar as such. Whilst a tad pretentious, the name wasn't a lie, seeing that he had at one point in his life been a redhead – before trauma had largely drained the colours from him – and he had always been a rogue, so it really made no sense to pretend otherwise.

As such, he did very little to actively discourage some of the wilder speculations that had recently begun to emerge in regards to his persona, along with his supposed connection to the Crowned Clown, who – as an ever-increasing number of players had begun to notice – had a habit of appearing in the same places as the Red Rogue did, which obviously made sense, seeing that they were ultimately one and the same – well, in a manner of speaking, Allen supposed.

Then again, with people suspecting that there was some sort of connection, he either needed to be a bit more careful from that point on or to put his cards out on full display.

As for the latter, he would rather not, seeing that he would have the Black Order guild after him before he could do as much as blink and he would rather not associate with those people unless he absolutely had to do so.

Thus, discretion it was, and with that, he discarded his crimson cloak for a simple brown one, though he kept his hood up as a general rule, as his hair – stark white like in reality and unfortunately next to impossible to do anything about – stood out like a sore thumb even in an exotic environment full of people adhering to a greater or lesser degree of eccentricity.

Thus, shrouded in his relative anonymity, he entered the Gate, exiting it in a city – _Earlsfield_ – which bore a slight resemblance to 19th Century London, but mostly just in regards to landscapes seen in thriller, action or horror movies set in its immediate vicinity.

Earlsfield was – in a manner of speaking – a place where darkness reigned for most of the time, along with the fog and the crescent moon grinning down at people whilst they were getting hunted down by akuma.

Obviously, seeing to the factthat those who gotten themselves killed in AO were forced to start all over again, Allen was not all too keen on expanding his knowledge on the akuma beyond what he had deemed necessary in order to either avoid or defeat them, much like he dealt with actual PKs, player killers.

Then again, all in all, he could probably qualify himself as one of the latter for all that he cared, seeing to the fact that he had occasionally taken to killing avatars in order to steal their items even though he had made no greater habit of it, seeing to the fact that he by then already had more than enough potential and actual enemies after his virtual blood. Speaking of which…

He ducked into an alleyway whilst accessing his collection of items, pulling out a spell card; they were convenient little things, though they were severely limited in terms of time and use.

He activated it, and dashed off once it had begun working its magic to mask his getaway from his newly acquired tail.

This was Earlsfield after all; it just wasn't the real thing if one didn't acquire a tail or two mere minutes after entering the area.

As a matter of fact, Allen found himself wondering just why there was only one as far as his-…

In quick succession whilst still retaining his speed, he activated a whole bunch of spell cards, scrambling his traceable signature even further and adding hyper speed.

Based on the approach of what he had now confirmed to be several tails, he suspected that he could be dealing with a whole flock of akuma – it wasn't that rare; not anymore, and not in areas like Earlsfield – and since he wasn't all too keen on facing the lot of them and to risk losing all the things that he had managed to attain during the three months and the three weeks that he had been playing the game, he had to remain cautious.

However, though he certainly didn't feel like meeting them all head-on, that in itself did not mean that he wasn't intending on giving them a taste of Hell; not specifically because they had underestimated him – because he would have to work so much harder if people did not underestimate him on a fairly regular basis – but rather because they had caught him in a bad mood.

Besides, he wouldn't be able to pursue his actual objective as long as he had them on his tail, and he was actually on a pretty tight deadline in regards to that and really didn't have all that much time to spare now, did he?

It was also there – in the town of Earlsfield – that he had first had the questionable pleasure of fighting alongside Lavi the Bookman Apprentice, who had just happened to appear in the right place at an opportune moment, obviously for some information-gathering purpose.

However, Allen had something of a policy to uphold and had taken the opportunity to skip town at a given opportunity. After all, just because they had happened to stumble upon one another – however wittingly or utterly unintentionally – that in itself had not necessarily meant that they had to become friends or enemies for that matter.

As a matter of fact, Allen had very much found that he would prefer neither, whether the other would prove a useful source of information in the near future or not.

As things turned out though, Lavi the Bookman Apprentice was not quite satisfied with having been given the slip; not quite satisfied and rather persistent too as a matter of fact.

**-****o0o -**

On the guardrail of the Crimson Bridge, an annoyingly familiar redhead sat, dangling his legs over the edge of it, holding onto a fishing rod.

Allen Walker – or rather, the Red Rogue – paid very little heed to the other as he crossed the bridge, hurrying his steps along as he had only just recently managed to log back in after having spent the last couple of days back in that cramped apartment that was not even his. It was not as though he even liked playing the game all that much to begin with; he played because he had to and in order to escape a reality that he fancied even less.

Thus, feeling more than a bit restless after his absence – brief by the standards of some, and long by his own – he walked briskly, already browsing through his log book for notes on his next target, hoping to be ignored as he generally was. It wasn't as though he went around picking fights with other players after all, even if that would admittedly be a way to make a greater amount of cash in a lesser amount of time.

Then again, the problem with stealing from other players certainly earned a reputation, and then a wanted poster and a bounty and then… trouble.

Thus, he retained a general policy of not interacting with other players except when dealing with them was inevitable. What was and what was not inevitable was a matter of definition though, wasn't it?

A sense of inevitability made itself reminded, and he vividly recalled their initial meeting at Earlsfield, fighting back to back against a group of akuma.

"That's a cool weapon you've got," the redhead idly commented as he made his way past him on the bridge. "Where did you get it?"

Despite knowing better, he paused in his step. "Are you some kind of stalker?"

The redhead turned around, leering. "Nope, just curious. The Old Man Panda always keeps nagging about the importance of getting hold of useful information…"

"Old Man Panda?"

"Nuh-uh-uh… Information is traded in information." The apprentice's leer widened noticeably. "Now where did you get those cool-looking claws?"

Wordlessly, Allen selected a short-distance warping spell from his supply.

**- ****o0o -**

Logging out, he dislodged the helmet from his head and put it aside before slumping where he sat in the couch. Checking his phone, he found that he had been playing for five hours straight.

It was just after half past two in the morning, and though exhausted, he got up and headed over to the bathroom, catching sight of his own zombie-like appearance in the mirror as he moved past it.

Somewhere along the way, it occurred to him that he should probably eat something – and probably take a shower or something as well, all things considered – but the mere thought of consuming any type of sustenance nearly had him gagging.

In a way, it did occur to him that the latter was probably an even greater cause of concern, considering the fact that food had always appealed to him and in great quantities as well, though it hardly showed.

Foregoing the need to eat, he took a shower, feeling as though he had not showered in days, which all things considered probably wasn't all that far away from the truth now that he thought about it.

Then again, there were certain reasons now, weren't there?

Drying his hair with a towel, he shot another glance at his reflection as it emerged from the previously fogged up mirror.

Truth to be told, he felt as though he might as well have been looking at a stranger.

**- o0o -**

The day that followed was a grey one, both in terms of the weather and in terms of Allen's mood in general. He had woken up to face a serious migraine and been unable to go back to sleep and thus, he had started his day by downing a couple of painkillers before forcing some food down his own throat. In doing so, he inwardly prayed that he would be able to keep it down, collapsing back onto the couch and pulling the blankets more tightly around himself, shivering and feeling a tad more miserable than usual.

To add to it all, he was probably running a bit of a fever as well – due to stress no doubt. As such, he decided to stay the Hell away from the game, seeing to the fact that he was not in any shape to handle taking on any challenges and obviously didn't want to make his condition any worse than it already was.

Once the painkillers finally began kicking in and he started to feel somewhat like a human again, he opened his eyes and found – somewhat to his surprise – that he was hungry.

Reaching for his phone, he quickly composed a text to the still absent Tyki, and sent it.

Before long, a response arrived, and as he read it, the edges of his mouth twitched slightly before curling upwards.

It just had to be the stress he'd been subjecting himself to lately, hadn't it?

Headache or not, he must have dozed off for a bit, because he startled awake at the sound of someone ringing the doorbell. Somewhat disoriented, he got up whilst holding his head, quietly making his way up to the door, coming to a pause only when he was standing right next to it, contemplating whether or not he ought to check who it was before unlocking the door.

After all, with the life that he had led with Cross – running from loan sharks and other potentially dangerous people that said man had involved himself with – it was a sheer miracle that his own sanity was still fairly intact, slight paranoia aside.

Then again, it obviously didn't hurt to be careful now, did it?

Even so, he unlocked the door and pressed down the handle, opening it for the one who stood there, bearing takeout.

"Yo," Tyki Mikk greeted, and Allen held the door open for him to enter.

They had only known each other for a few months, having exchanged phone numbers back in the Ark Enterprise lobby, mostly just because. Coincidentally, they had come to the joint realisation that they actually lived in the same building, albeit on different floors, all of which was revealed once they happened upon each other out on the staircase.

Truth to be told, it was a crazy coincidence. Then again, the world was filled with an abundance of crazy things, and currently freeloading as he was, Allen really didn't feel like complaining. But still…

He shut the door behind them both. "How much do I owe you?"

"Your company?" Tyki responded, kicking off his shoes before making his way over to the couch, placing the takeout onto the small table in front of it. "Food tastes better when shared after all."

Hoh. That was a new one.

Shrugging inwardly, Allen locked the door and made his way over, sinking into the couch as well. "If you say so."

Soon, there was but one slice of pizza remaining. Allen glanced at it, but made no comment.

"Last one's yours," Tyki notified him, opening the door to the fridge to fetch himself some alcohol. "I have another boring dinner party to attend, and I need to leave room for some fancy cuisine. I mean, what else is there to do at a boring dinner party but to eat if you're not particularly into mingling?"

Allen stopped pretending to ignore the pizza, leaning back into the couch instead and tilting his head backwards, staring at the ceiling. "You could just ditch the party, you know," he then said, turning his head to stare innocently at Tyki when the latter emerged from the kitchen.

"Don't tempt me," Tyki chided, wrapping up a pair of bottles with some cloth. "Participation is mandatory – _unfortunately_ – and my employer said that unless I wanted to be reassigned as his granddaughter's permanent babysitter, I'd have to make an appearance…"

Allen settled for humming sympathetically, reaching for the last slice of pizza.

**- o0o -**

"Back so soon, Red Rogue?"

Just having exited the Gate, Allen found that he had a very unwelcome welcoming committee. Go figure.

Momentarily, he found himself tempted to ask whether or not the other had put a homing beacon on his avatar, but since his own trackers picked up nothing, he decided to put it down either to chance or to the other having studied his habits extensively.

Knowing the company, it was with all due likelihood the latter.

Thus, he decided to skip the formalities and to go straight to the point, for better or for worse. "What do you want?"

The Bookman's Apprentice ‒ information peddler and all-around pain in the arse ‒ merely cocked his head slightly before tilting it, evidently faking the grin now. "Mind if we switch to more private locations before getting into that?"

**- o0o -**

Despite knowing better, Allen allowed himself to be teleported into what turned out to be a living room of some sort, though it was more like a small library with its walls all aligned with shelves upon which a bountiful of thick tomes had been lined.

"You know," the apprentice said, dropping his overly cheerful act somewhat as he flopped down into a comfortable-looking armchair to continue looking at him intently. "I really, really, _really_ don't like being asked questions to which I have no answers, and lately, I've been asked many such questions… mostly about you."

Allen folded his arms over his chest where he had already taken a seat in a similar chair, staring back with a similar intensity but for different reasons altogether. Eyes narrowing slightly, he leaned to the side, propping himself up against one of the armrests using his elbow. "And this concerns me, how?"

"Information," the Bookman apprentice responded, whipping out a thick book and slamming it down onto the table between them as a part of some dramatic gesture. "I need information that you have and I'm willing to trade."

Allen eyed the book, recognising it as an extremely rare copy of _The Record_. He looked up again at the apprentice, kicking up an eyebrow in evident mystification.

"And what sort of info would you happen to be looking for, pray tell?" he then asked, seeing to the fact that the Bookmen had yet to issue any specific terms. Then again, with _The Record_ now laid out on the table, Allen saw little reason to be any ruder than necessary, especially after that annoying grin was finally absent from the other's face. It still remained to be seen for how long the other would be able to retain that kind of serious expression though.

"Look…" the apprentice began, running a hand through his hair; looking mildly troubled. "You've been playing this game for a while, right?"

Allen levelled his eyes upon the other, retaining his position. "How so?"

A somewhat wry look crossed the other's features. Then, the apprentice shifted slightly in his seat, coming to mirror Allen's own position. "Okay, let's set up a few rules for this, shall we?"

Fair enough, Allen supposed. He straightened up in his chair again, folding his arms across his chest. "Give and take, is it?"

"We're on the same page then?"

He dipped his head once, signalling that he agreed to the terms. "You first," he then deadpanned, giving their surroundings a slight appraisal. "What is this place?"

"The Bookman's Den." Lavi also straightened where he sat, throwing a somewhat wary glance at his surroundings before once again directing his attention towards him. "Now will you answer my question?"

Allen tilted his head slightly to the side, averting his eyes; not because he was feeling ashamed or embarrassed or anything of the sort, but simply because he saw little point in staring someone in the eye unless one expected them to pounce. "I was a part of the Beta Deal," he offered flatly. "So yes, a while."

"I knew it." The other looked mildly triumphant.

Allen disregarded him. "Why is this relevant?"

"Have you been in any contact with any other beta testers since?"

Allen just stared at the other, who was obviously disregarding the rules of their exchange. Still, all in all, he doubted that it was without reason. "One," he eventually responded.

"Why do you want to know?" he then proceeded to ask.

"You mean that you don't know?"

Again, answering a question with a question. Honestly. "I am not entirely clear about what I am supposed to know."

The other just continued to stare at him, like he was some sort of rare specimen or even something supernatural. Truth to be told, it unnerved him. "You're in the UK, right?"

Again, more questions and no real answers. "How so?"

"Are you or are you not?"

Honestly. "Well, wouldn't you want to know…"

The redhead stared at him seriously; intensely. "London area?"

"Close enough," he yielded, not really intending on being any more specific.

"You know the London Aquarium?"

"Yes." _Why?_

"Got time to spare tomorrow?"

"Who knows?" he responded, standing up.

The redhead opened his mouth, and then snapped it back shut, looking mildly frustrated as he remained in his seat. "Look, I know that this is a weird request and all, but…"

Allen ‒ already in the middle of preparing his own departure ‒ resisted a sudden urge to roll his eyes, keeping his face largely impassive. "Let me guess… You want me to trust you?"

"I want you to hear me out," the other clarified, once again giving him that look. "Whether or not you trust me comes afterwards."

Hoh. "Fair enough," Allen finally yielded, turning to face the other. "If you reimburse my entrance fee."

A wry smile crossed the other's face. "Really, forcing an impoverished college student to pay for you…"

He returned the smile with an equal amount of wryness. "Really, asking a secondary school dropout out for a date?" he asked somewhat rhetorically before logging out.

**- o0o -**

Back in real life, Allen let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples.

He could feel his migraine returning.

**- o0o -**

_Arkadia Online_.

Despite its initial tediousness, the game eventually became kind of fun in itself as long as one had decent company – that is, none whatsoever – and kept it simple.

Hunt, sell, steal (subtly), sell, level up, rinse, repeat.

Complications were a bother; complications were unneeded.

Complications were…

The jellyfish bobbed up and down in the aquarium.

It had definitely been a bad idea to come.

Then again, perhaps it had been avoidable, truly?

**- o0o -**


	3. C-III

...

**- o0o -**

– **C-III **–

**- o0o -**

Allen let out a heavy sigh, massaging his temples.

His migraine continued lurking right around the corner as if it was ready to pounce, but he ignored it in favour of watching the jellyfish bobbing up and down in the aquarium.

Obviously, there was a question that begged to be asked; several even, but Allen figured that he might as well start from somewhere, namely the reason as to why there had been a need for them to meet up in real life in order to exchange information in the first place.

"I honestly don't know where to start," proved to be the somewhat awkward response, which was then followed by a "How closely have you been following the news lately?"

Allen found himself resisting a sudden urge to pinch the ridge of his nose, or of the other's nose; at this rate, either would do just fine.

Truthfully, though Allen hadn't been paying all that much attention to the news as of late, he certainly hadn't ignored them. However, one might say that the things which he might have learned from the news as of late had been obscured by memories of other events, the most prominent of which had taken place at around three a.m. the very same morning.

The aforementioned event had included an unusually clingy and by no means sober flatmate, and had left a lasting impression to say the very least.

"Well, it wouldn't matter all that much, since they've mostly managed to keep it under wraps," Lavi commented softly, following his lead as they moved on to explore the rest of the aquarium. "Dunno how though."

Allen tore his attention away from the various specimens of fish to shoot the other a narrow-eyed stare. "Don't tell me that you had me dragged out of hiding over some random conspiracy theory."

Lavi scratched the back of his head. "Heh… some might call it that."

Allen directed his attention back to the fish. "Since I'm already here and everything, I'll hear you out and believe what I will," he finally yielded, moving along.

"Fair enough." The redhead picked up his pace slightly, and Allen aligned his own in return. "Mind you, this might just make you think that I'm crazy or something."

As if further evidence was even needed in order to establish that.

**- o0o -**

Despite Allen's well-founded doubts about the other's grip on reality, they ended up comparing notes at an indoor café located nearby. Then again, rather than them actually comparing notes, it was actually more of Lavi explaining things and fiddling with a notebook of his, all whilst Allen himself alternated between stirring his milk tea and sipping it, inserting a comment or a request for clarification every now and then, even though he would probably have been just as happy to leave the other to their monologue.

However, despite the fact that he ought to have known better, Allen had promised to hear Lavi out. The fact that he had ultimately been bribed with the promise of sustenance might have had some sway in his ultimate decision, but really, he ought to have known better than to agree to this meet up in the first place. Then again, it was just one out of many regrets, and overall, it hardly counted as significant; at this point in time, that is. Oh well…

"This is what I've spent the last month investigating, both on- and offline…" Lavi pushed the open notebook towards him, pointing at the scribbled word that was located right in the middle of the somewhat disorganised mind map spanning across the whole spread.

"_Innocence_?"

**- o0o -**

Allen wasted little time as he bounded up the stairs with his latest catch, seeing that the lift had once again broken down.

Though somewhat winded, it was with a sense of triumph that he reached his intended floor and whipped out his key, sticking it into the keyhole, unlocking the door and entering before shutting and locking it behind him.

He kicked his shoes off, put his stuff down and removed his cap soon thereafter.

He felt dirty; unclean somehow. That and tired, obviously; worn, stretched thin.

He was hungry, but felt nauseous at the same time and particularly so after he had finished eating. Rather, Allen found that he felt just about ready to scramble over to the bathroom to make best friends with the toilet, but he steeled himself, forcing himself to remain calm.

After all, it would have been very counterproductive of him to puke out the food that he had only just consumed; counterproductive and wasteful too, in not just one but several ways.

Instead of making best friends with the toilet, Allen opted for a shower and a lengthy one at that, by his own standards. He took it in darkness as well, having opted to do so after having taken a look at the state of his body, and of his left arm in particular.

The latter had always been a bit strange and had become even stranger as of late. It had always been discoloured and a tad dodgy. However, since it had rarely bothered him very much and had occasionally bothered the people in his immediate surroundings a great deal, it was more often hidden away than the subject of any deeper examination. In hindsight, Allen wondered whether or not he ought to be thankful for all this.

Admittedly, it was a tad bothersome to wear gloves in the summertime. The other seasons weren't that bad, neither in terms of temperature nor in terms of people staring and making remarks.

Then again, in terms of strangeness, his oddly-coloured hair along with the somewhat peculiar scar running down the left part of his face usually stole away most of the attention from the gloves.

Apparently, some people considered it a fashion statement. In a way, nowadays, Allen supposed that they were not entirely wrong about it, seeing that the gloves had become such an integral part of his appearance that he barely even thought of it anymore. Then again…

He slipped into a fresh set of clothing and exited the bathroom, rubbing at his hair with a towel. His hair; it was getting kind of long. Before long, if he left it like this, it would reach his shoulders. He thought about cutting it, briefly, before discarding the thought altogether in favour of reaching down to pick up his discarded gloves from the floor, bringing them along to the couch. There, he sat down, towel remaining around his shoulders. Soon, he slumped further in his posture, falling over so that the side of his head was leaning against one of the armrests.

Initially, he had panicked; the first time that it had happened.

It had all been that guy's fault really, wounding him and thereby setting off a chain reaction of troublesome events. After all, a sword equipped with the power of Innocence was…

Even without logging out properly, the sheer force of it had snapped him right back into a state of disoriented hyperawareness; to the unmistakable stench of blood in the air.

He had found himself on the floor, hyperventilating; bleeding; panicking.

To think that what took place in the game could have physical consequences? Before this event, he hadn't really bothered thinking much of it. However, even now, it was still undeniable that actual experience had a definite ability to open up one's mind to new possibilities; to rapid realisations.

Naturally, waking up with blood oozing from his palm had given him a bit of a wakeup call as to the reality of his own situation. As such, he hadn't really been all that shocked when Lavi had turned up with word of Innocence on his lips; he had since long suspected that such was the case, even without formulating stupid theories. The fact that Innocence had some sort of ability to affect the world even outside of the game had already been established; the blood had served as all the explanation needed for him to buy into the possibility of it being so at the very least.

Obviously though, he had attended his meeting with the Bookman apprentice under the guise of relative unawareness, along with a fair amount of indifference in regards to the things that he did know. Like the redhead seemed to favour hiding his scheming behind a friendly façade, Allen greatly favoured keeping his cards close to his chest.

After all, even though the other certainly had a few years on him, Allen had been playing AO far longer than the other, and though the other seemed specialised in gathering information, there were still parts of the game that remained hidden from the eyes of most.

The Beta Deal had lasted for merely three months, and to the extent of Allen's own knowledge, very little hand changed in-between the beta version and the official one. Rather, the game would have been perfectly ready for an official release a month into the Beta Deal at the most, if not even before that. The glitches had been few. Rather, it had been following the actual release that the glitches had increased. After all…

Rolling onto his back, he lifted his arm, staring at his left hand; at his abnormality. The injury; it had healed up all nicely now, though a scar still remained. Rather, a scar was to be expected; he had been surprised that he had managed to make do without stitches.

_Innocence…_

**- o0o -**

"_Innocence?"_

_Lavi dropped another piece of sugar into his coffee. _

"_It's a type of crystal that exists within the game, and has the ability to synchronise with certain players, granting them special powers."_

**- o0o -**

He breathed in deeply, allowing the limb to fall down onto his ribcage, and then breathed out, slowly._ Innocence, huh?_

From the very start, he had intended to keep his status as an accommodator of Innocence under wraps, not because it was Innocence, but because it was his trump card; had been at any rate. That was before the so called Black Order guild had even been established and before most of its members ‒ current or former ‒ had even joined.

Really, to think that those people over at the Black Order guild had gained such a sway in such a short amount of time; whoever backed them had to be in possession of a fair deal of cash, or at the very least some type of influence that could sway others into joining them and into doing their bidding.

After all, their sudden rise and expansion within mere weeks of the game's official release could hardly be explained otherwise. Besides, them owning not only one but several buildings ‒ including a great black tower standing at the top of a cliff ‒ further emphasised that they had invested a fair deal of currency into the whole affair.

Then again, Allen supposed that he could allow them the benefit of the doubt and attribute their sudden rise, expansion and seeming wealth upon the fact that they had more people who would work and earn, whilst he was but a single player, beta tester and Innocence accommodator or not.

Besides, even though Allen himself at this point possessed a fair deal of money even by real world standards, he was hardly one to spend it upon virtual property, but was rather more inclined towards gathering and saving it in order to eventually invest it into his actual future.

After all, who knew what those Order people were thinking, recruiting members and particularly those in possession of Innocence? Admittedly, that way, they might be able to defeat more akuma, but…

**- o0o -**

"_Because Innocence exists within the game – and outside it as well."_

**- o0o -**

He was back at the café, his eyes leaving the page for the first time in minutes, whilst the other went about stirring their half-forgotten coffee. "What?"

Had the red-haired scholar been in possession of a pair of glasses, then this would have been the moment for him to push them further up the ridge of his nose. "In a manner of speaking, of course," Lavi remedied, smiling somewhat apologetically. "Initially, I wrote it off as a part of some sort of cool expansion pack." He shrugged mildly, putting the spoon aside. "That it would eventually be released on the market or something… which it obviously wasn't."

"It synchronises only with certain players?"

The redhead nodded sagely in response.

"Then what is it…" Allen questioned, studying the mind map with seeming disinterest, his eyes straying further from the current main topic and onto the keywords that were scribbled around it. "_Innocence_?"

The response came surprisingly swiftly, and to the point at that.

"It's convoluted data. Somehow, it has managed to worm itself into numerous servers of the game, infecting it like a virus. From what I've seen, it tends to cause distortions, unless its fragments manage to attach themselves to something – to an item for example, or in rare cases to PCs," Lavi explained, pointing to the mind map. "Other than you, I know of two: Suman Dark, who is a member of the Black Order guild, and Arystar Krory the Third, who also recently joined that same guild. There are others though – like me – who harness the power of Innocence through a particular item."

Allen dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement of the fact before directing his attention back towards the scribbles.

"Anyways, most of the people who're involved with it are in the Order by now." Lavi shrugged mildly. "They've attempted to recruit me as well, obviously, but I had already formed a guild with the old man and felt like remaining neutral."

"I am a Bookman's apprentice after all…" There was a hint of pride to the other's voice. "We collect, trade, and sell information. Besides…" Lavi looked up at him now, lifting the cup of coffee to his mouth with a smile. "They weren't exactly pleasant about it either, so…"

"They've been making inquiries about you as well, for some time now," Lavi finished somewhat thoughtfully, surveying their surroundings and the people moving about. "Though they've become quite persistent as of late…"

Allen simply narrowed his eyes at that.

"Hey, don't give me that kind of look," Lavi admonished him somewhat exasperatedly, leaning back into his chair, staring up at the skylight in the ceiling. "I haven't told them anything. They didn't offer me a good enough deal. Besides, I happen to like you a lot more than I like them, and even though I'm an impoverished college student and all, I'm not the type to sell out my friends."

The tea was already lukewarm. It was a tad disappointing, but Allen continued drinking it even so. "I'm not your friend."

The redhead smiled broadly, undeterred. "Not yet."

Allen surveyed him critically for several moments before downing what little still remained in his cup. "If you say so," he yielded, deadpan.

Obviously satisfied, a triumphant grin crossed the other's face before it smoothened once more, giving way to seriousness. "Anyways, Innocence." Lavi pointed to the middle of the mind map. "You know the akuma, right?"

Despite a sudden urge to glare and to make a snide comment, Allen settled for dipping his head slightly in acknowledgement.

"Basically… to the extent of my knowledge, you can only destroy them with the power of Innocence. But…" Leaning forward, Lavi tapped the scribbles reading _akuma_. "Have you ever wondered what they are?"

Allen arched an eyebrow. "Convoluted data?"

"That too," Lavi readily acknowledged, tapping the page once more. "But have you ever thought about how exactly they come about?"

Allen didn't hesitate. "Not really."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised." Lavi was leaning back once more, staring up at the skylights. "Anyways, I've got an acquaintance in the Order – well, I would call him a friend, but he might skewer me if I do. A pretty sour guy to be completely honest. A swordsman."

"Are we talking foul-mouthed, katana-wielding, pony-tailed samurai wannabe?"

Lavi's customary grin made its inevitable return. "You know him?"

"We've…" Allen wondered how to best put it. "…met?"

"In other words," Lavi clarified, voice carrying way more than just a slight amount of amusement. "He attempted to skewer you or something."

"Yes. He attacked me right off the bat."

"Really?" Lavi looked mildly surprised at that, but he was probably feigning it, judging from the amusement that still lingered in his eye. "Did you do anything?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Damn sure."

Lavi shot him a look, but didn't pry, curiously enough. "In any case, he's recently called it quits." The redhead leaned forward once more. "A pretty nasty breakout from what I've heard."

Allen humoured him, leaning back into his seat. "So?"

"Well…" Lavi scratched the back of his head somewhat awkwardly. "I happen to know him in real life, so I made contact with him in order to find out just what had finally made him snap."

Again, Allen humoured him. "So?"

"It'll be easier if I show you, I suppose." Lavi took the notebook and flipped through it, soon thereafter retrieving a photograph that had been stuck in-between the pages, showing it to him. "See these people?"

Mildly curious, Allen leaned closer in order to get a better look. "Who are they?"

"That'd be Kanda Yu," Lavi said, pointing him out. "And his childhood friend Alma Karma."

"No way."

"It was taken years ago though," Lavi finally remedied. "Ten maybe."

Allen kicked up an eyebrow in response. "So they're like eighteen or nineteen now or something?"

"Yep." Lavi retrieved the photograph, giving it a last look before sticking it right back into the notebook. "We were in the same English class back in high school. They were exchange students," the redhead elaborated further. "And got married right after their high school graduation."

"I take it that they didn't live happily ever after then?"

He got an exasperated sigh in response, followed by a short pause.

"She convinced Kanda that they should both join the Beta Deal in Japan," Lavi revealed, pausing momentarily to chew a bit on his bottom lip. "Now she's in a coma and he's out for vengeance."

"Vengeance?"

"Well, not purely vengeance, obviously," Lavi swiftly remedied. "But yeah, he's royally pissed off about it all."

"If he's got a problem, there's Ark Enterprises." Allen tilted his head, first slightly to one side and then slightly to the other. "I don't know about the deal with their Japanese branch, but over here, we had to sign papers."

Lavi lifted his head slightly. "Papers?"

"Getting a clean bill of health, then filling out a form and signing papers…"

For whichever reason, Lavi looked very interested now. "Did they put in an advert or anything in order to get you to apply in the first place?"

"Not really."

"In Japan, they held a lottery," Lavi informed him, leaning closer now. "What did they do over here?"

A lottery, huh?

"I responded to some junk mail." Allen shifted slightly in his seat, rolling his shoulders to prevent them from stiffening any further. "Then, I received an invite."

A slight frown crossed the other's face. "Junk mail?"

Allen shrugged mildly. "It seemed fairly harmless."

He was stared at then, but he hardly let it bother him as he proceeded to reveal the truth as it was. "I was bored." And running low on funds.

Another incredulous look was sent his way. "What did it say, that email?"

Allen sent back a similar look, kicking up his eyebrow for emphasis. "You're asking me about the contents about an email that I received more than six months ago?"

"Well…" At the very least, Lavi had the decency to look mildly embarrassed. "The gist of it?"

**- o0o -**

Really, such an infuriating person; Allen had already suspected as much beforehand. But surprise, surprise, the other had managed to exceed his expectations.

Still remembering, Allen found himself fighting a sudden urge to smile.

**- o0o -**

He'd told Lavi that he didn't remember; that it had been something stupid and rather forgettable, which was close enough to how it had really been.

Hearing this, the red-haired scholar had momentarily looked rather stumped. Obviously though, it hadn't lasted very long, because soon thereafter, he had gained new wind. "Then what about the forms and stuff… what were they about?"

Again, an eye roll had definitely lain close at hand. Instead of giving in to the urge however, Allen had pulled out his cell phone for the first time in forever, beginning to compose a text as he continued speaking. "Normal things. Formalities. Legal stuff."

**- o0o -**

"_And your folks just agreed to sign the papers for you?"_

**- o0o -**

Again, in his mind, he relived the memory, shooting off a devil-may-care grin in the other's general direction. "I forged their signature."

There was little surprise; exasperation proved abundant however. "You did, huh?"

Allen's grin gradually morphed into a wry smirk that would have made Tyki proud. "And since the guy has yet to resurface, I'm safe," he added as he finished with the message, sending it.

"Uh…" Lavi actually looked a bit hesitant at this; like he was about to swallow soundly. "You didn't kill him or anything, I hope?"

"You're funny," Allen commented impassively, his facial expression now mirroring his voice.

"You have a strange sense of humour," Lavi insisted, still looking a bit nervous.

Retaining an impassive expression, Allen tilted his head slightly to the side. "After living the life that I've had, you'd either learn to view things my way or you'd go mental."

"Sounds harsh," Lavi noted, eyeing him almost cautiously. How curious.

"Well," Allen deadpanned. "Being abandoned without cash or passport in India wasn't my idea of fun either."

There was a beat of silence.

"Some guardian, huh?" Lavi eventually amended, sympathetically.

"Former guardian now, I suppose," Allen amended in return, not sorry in the least.

That earned him a somewhat puzzled look. "Former?"

"Well…" This time around, a small smile came to grace Allen's features. "Officially speaking, he's still presumed dead after having received multiple gunshot wounds before falling into the Ganges."

The puzzlement turned to shocked disbelief. "You're joking."

Allen's smile turned razor-sharp.

"You're not joking?" Lavi eventually said, halfway between deadpan and incredulous but definitely favouring the latter.

"Officially speaking, that is." Allen shifted slightly in his seat. "Even now, I haven't decided whether it's true or not, seeing that the guy's a serial offender when it comes to insurance fraud."

The redhead frowned at him. "Still…"

"I don't get out much nowadays," Allen remedied slightly, reaching up to adjust his cap as he continued speaking, lowering his voice. "Since I'm generally too busy dodging social services."

There was yet another incredulous look sent his way.

He shrugged mildly in response. "I'm currently freeloading."

The incredulousness remained. "And they haven't reported you to the authorities?"

Allen gave the redhead a look and then proceeded onward with his text message. "Nah… I mean, he's a pretty shady guy himself, so…"

The incredulousness was still there, though now it had grown darker with the addition of blatant disapproval.

"He used to be a part of the Beta Deal too, you know," Allen remedied, keeping names out of it, obviously. "Doesn't play a whole lot nowadays though, or at least not whenever I'm around."

For a brief moment, the other just stared. Then, they blinked. Then, finally, their facial expression changed, gaining something that Allen found it difficult to identify, and then they hummed, thoughtfully yet not. "Have you ever seen him play?"

Allen paused slightly. "No."

Lavi's frown deepened. "And you've never encountered him or anyone that you'd think might've been him in AO?"

Allen shrugged mildly in response. "Not that I can recall, no."

Whether he had at some point in time pondered it or not, he had always considered it a matter of lesser importance. After all, though Tyki obviously had his quirks, he was hardly the only one.

"And you're just living with him – this shady guy?"

"For three weeks, yes." The lie slid easily off of his tongue, undistinguishable from the real deal.

"Aren't you like… worried about your own safety or something? That you might get sold off into trafficking or molested or something?"

Allen shot the other a blank look in response.

He gained a look of disapproving disbelief in return.

"And here I had you tagged as someone prone to paranoia."

Allen allowed his eyes to wander. "I'm not beyond it, but he doesn't worry me at the moment," he said. "The moment that I start growing concerned for my own safety, I'll obviously have to seek out a new place to live."

"Still…" The scrutiny continued. "You seem awfully casual about all of this."

It was certainly true enough, but…

"What can I say?" Allen shrugged mildly. "I've never really had a very stable home life, so this kind of stuff is pretty normal."

The scrutiny intensified. "I take it that this guy's not the first potentially dangerous individual that you've had the pleasure of hanging out with?"

Again, Allen shrugged. "I used to go gambling with mobsters." He closed his eyes briefly before snapping them back open, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Does that answer your question?"

"In other words," Lavi began; disapproval once again apparent. "You're kinda used to living on the edge, huh?"

"I've been on the edge a couple of times." Allen shrugged once more. "I guess that you kind of get used to it."

"Then how about _now_?"

Allen blinked, tilting his head to one side. "Now?"

"Do you know how many people participated in the Beta Deal?" Lavi pressed, frowning still.

Momentarily, Allen impassively returned the stare. Then, he closed his eyes, resisting a sudden urge to pinch the ridge of his nose. "Just here in the UK or internationally?"

"Either."

"If I had to make a rough estimate…" Allen kept his eyes closed as he spoke. "Then about forty people in the UK?"

"Close enough," Lavi yielded. "It was forty-two."

"Internationally… somewhere around five hundred, I suppose."

Five hundred; give or take a few. It was a rough estimate, but Allen figured that it was around there or above, but definitely below one thousand in total. Still… "How so?" he asked, snapping his eyes open finally, taking in the other's serious visage.

Lavi brought out his notebook, leafing through it as he continued his impromptu interrogation. "How many of those people do you think are still playing nowadays?"

Allen offered up a helpless shrug in return. To be completely honest, he hadn't really thought about it. However, considering recent revelations, it was not without interest that he observed the other as they pulled out a pen.

"Have you encountered any of them lately – other beta testers, that is?" Lavi proceeded, twirling the pen between his fingers, a steely hint to his otherwise cheerful expression.

For several moments, Allen just stared impassively. Then, he once again allowed his eyes to wander. "You do know that I have a general policy of not associating with other players, right?"

"Still," Lavi persisted, the ballpoint of the pen hovering just above the page. "Do you recall spotting any people that you encountered during the months of the beta run?"

Allen reached up to adjust his cap. "I do recall seeing a few."

Lavi's gaze instantly sharpened. "How many?"

"Not an awful lot." Allen averted his eyes.

"But?" Lavi's gaze sharpened even further, to the degree that Allen could feel it stabbing him as he shifted his gaze to check their surroundings once more in order to make sure that no one was listening in on them; not too closely at any rate.

"Truth to be told…" Allen shifted slightly where he sat, putting one of his elbows against the tabletop as he allowed his knuckles to act as a support for his chin. "I just assumed that the avatars of people who die in the game were resurrected as akuma or something…"

"You're not incorrect," Lavi responded, jotting down a small note. "But…" He lifted his gaze to stare at him very intently. "What do you think happens to the players themselves?"

**- ****o0o -**

He found himself staring tiredly up at the darkening ceiling.

Even without attempting to lift either his head or limbs, he knew that they would feel heavy if he did. Perhaps it was due to the distant ache still lingering in his limbs and the receding one in his head, or perhaps he knew simply because his eyelids felt thicker than usual; weighed down by poor life choices and the exhaustion stemming from a chronic state of restlessness.

Even when sleeping, he was always alert. Truly restful sleep proved rare. Truth to be told, he figured that he probably hadn't had a full night's sleep in five years. Five years…

To think that it had already been five years since that fateful night.

_Five_ years.

Five _years_.

Barring the visit that he had made to Doctor Murazaki, he hadn't set foot in a medical institution, going to some lengths in order to avoid it, to the chagrin of various officials and medically trained personnel. It wasn't so much because he had a phobia for such institutions or the people working there; he just didn't like the sight or smell of them, due to the unrelenting memories attached to them.

But no, it wasn't a phobia; phobia would indicate the presence of fear, and of all things that he might have experienced when making contact with them, fear wasn't one of them.

Since the events of that fateful night, things just hadn't been the same. Fear had entered his life and it had never really left him; with its continuous presence, he had simply become numb to it. But in the end, that was alright. It was for the best.

He closed his eyes, continuing to listen for sounds of anything that was unusual and therefore worthy of his interest.

Nothing.

In spite of heavy limbs, he reached for his phone, unlocking it so that he would be able to see what time it was.

The light of the display stung a bit in his eyes, so he only looked at it for just long enough to determine that it was almost eleven o'clock. It was getting late; late or early, depending on how one saw it.

Though decidedly reluctant to move, Allen sat himself up. He sat like that for a while, cradling his head in his hands as it once again began to pound, and once the pounding lessened some, he got up and dragged himself over to the bathroom.

Memories followed.

If he could have, then he would have slammed the door in their faces. However, finding them far too incorporeal and far too tenacious for such a thing to even work, he instead held the door open long enough for them to figuratively enter.

**- ****o0o -**

"_For now, it's just a working hypothesis."_

…That getting infected by the akuma virus influences the player as well.

"_That's why I've been looking for people who participated in the Beta Deal, in order to gather proof…"_

…To prove or disprove.

"_I've made it my job to snoop around and to be in the know. I know stuff, and I know people, yet you people – beta testers – are really difficult to come by."_

Allen shot a look into the mirror, meeting the eyes of the one standing there. _"Perhaps you're just looking in the wrong places?"_

A beat of silence. A heartbeat.

"_Perhaps there aren't all that many of you left to find?"_

He closed his eyes and then opened them, finding himself once again back at the café, quietly resigned to the seemingly inevitable.

"How many?" he finally asked, voice quiet and face impassive. "How many have you found… so far?"

"Excluding you and Yu…" Lavi paused slightly, tapping twice with the pen against the page. "None that have been in any condition to share their experiences."

"How many have you managed to track down?"

Again, Lavi tapped the page a couple of times, seemingly intent on gathering his thoughts. "Thirty-six," he finally yielded, jotting down another note. "And that's internationally."

"And in the UK?"

There was a brief pause, interrupted only by Lavi, who had taken to clicking with the pen. "You're the first," Lavi finally revealed, and Allen's thoughts came to a temporary halt and he lifted his head, sitting up straighter as the other kept on talking. "And that's just the ones who were a part of the Beta Deal." Another note was added. "There are others…"

"In other words… you mean to say that the players who are not in possession of Innocence are at risk of being negatively affected by or even turned into akuma? And you think that I haven't ended up like them because my avatar is in possession of Innocence?"

"Merely possessing it is no guarantee," Lavi corrected, his voice growing softer. "If you get killed by an akuma in the game, you still risk ending up like them."

Allen considered it, momentarily. Then, he summarily dismissed it. "You've been digging into this a lot, haven't you?" he instead noted, directing his attention to his phone as its display as it lit up slightly.

"I've barely spent a day doing coursework, if you must know," Lavi yielded.

"Huh." Allen picked his phone back up. "Some priorities."

"Says the middle-school dropout," the other quipped.

"What can I say?" Allen responded just as calmly, eyes scanning the message that he had just received. "I'm just not suited for the academic stuff."

"Then what are you suited for?" Lavi questioned as Allen shifted in his seat. "Gaming?"

Allen stood up, having retrieved his backpack from beneath the table. "Survival," he offered simply, swinging it over his shoulder.

Lavi stared more openly now, pen still in hand. "You're living with a shady stranger while playing a game that could very well turn you into a human vegetable."

Allen scoffed, resting his hand against the back of the chair that he had just left. "I'd rather try my chances with either than with the system."

"For how long?" Lavi countered, keeping his voice perfectly level even though there was a great deal of emotion simmering beneath it.

Phone still in hand, Allen snorted softly. "Until I've earned enough," he eventually yielded, glancing back at the other. "How so?"

"And how much is that?" Lavi questioned in return.

"More than I have at the moment," Allen commented, in the midst of composing yet another text.

"So…" The redhead regarded him somewhat thoughtfully, yet at the same time disapprovingly. "Once you've managed to make enough money, you'll stop playing?"

Allen didn't hesitate. "Yep."

**- o0o -**

"_Even after everything that I've just told you?"_

**- o0o -**

He awoke to darkness, to the distinct sound of a key turning in a lock and to the strange sense of déjà vu that accompanied it.

Curled up on his side as he was, Allen didn't move or make a noise as the door creaked open to admit a dark figure into the equally dark apartment.

As the door was pushed back shut, he closed his eyes and relaxed his body the best that he could, feigning sleep as he listened in on the other locking the door and removing their shoes before stepping further into the apartment.

As the muffled sound of footsteps on the carpet neared him, Allen found himself contemplating the wisdom of his previous action, or rather inaction.

Admittedly, he did have a fair bit of confidence in his ability to pretend, but still…

He opened his eyes just in time to see the other pause, hovering over him with a quilt that had previously lain discarded on the floor. "Tyki?"

A momentary look of surprise crossed the other's features before giving way to wry amusement. "Awake now?"

He was, in a manner of speaking, so he thought that he might as well play along with it. "I guess."

Draping the quilt around him, Tyki then proceeded to crouch down, thrusting his hand out to lay it on top of Allen's head, ruffling his hair as though it was not messy enough already. "Tired?"

"Wide awake actually," Allen deadpanned, resisting the urge to swat at the offending limb.

After having tousled his hair a bit, the hand retreated. "Why?"

Why?

Allen pushed himself up into a seated position, thereby getting a better look at the other, who was still crouching before him, eyeing him keenly. There was something…

Then, breathing in through his nose, he had his answer. "You smell."

That earned him a surprised blink in response. "Tobacco?" There was head movement to the left. "Alcohol?" There was head movement to the right.

"Blood." Allen leaned over, reaching for a light switch. He flicked it, flooding at least the nearest part of the previously darkened apartment with light, including Tyki Mikk who narrowed his eyes, seemingly a bit sensitive to it. "Are you hurt?"

"It's just a scratch."

Just a-

"Let me judge that one for myself," Allen snapped as Tyki straightened, giving him a somewhat puzzled look. "Take off your shirt."

Even without the additional lighting, the smirk that played on the other's lips would have been perfectly evident. "Telling me to strip now, are you?"

"Yes," Allen deadpanned, rising to his feet. "Got a first-aid box?"

"In the bathroom, under the sink."

"Come on." He grabbed the other by the wrist, stringing them along like an unruly child.

Little resistance was offered. It was rather the complete opposite, with Tyki proving disturbingly agreeable throughout it all, removing his blood-stained shirt, taking a seat and watching with morbid fascination as Allen ‒ once again wearing his gloves ‒ unscrewed a bottle of disinfectant. "So… who decided to have a go at you with a large kitchen knife?"

Tyki hummed, decidedly unbothered by the fact that he was sporting a bleeding cut to his biceps, even as Allen set about preparing to clean and disinfect it. "Whatever gave you such an impression?"

Allen, perhaps because of the sheer outlandishness of the situation, found himself resisting a sudden urge to roll his eyes as he soaked a swab of cotton in the liquid. "Size," he then relayed. "And angle."

"You're unexpectedly good at this," Tyki noted, far too unbothered by the fact that Allen, after cleaning the wound, now retrieved the needle that he had heated up beforehand and strung it up with some thread.

"You're unexpectedly calm about this," Allen deadpanned, setting to work.

"Ye-ouch. That hurts!"

"It does?" Allen flatly responded, because vocal reaction aside, the other's physical reaction was still way milder than that of most; it was closer to that of one being given a shot than to that of someone getting stitched up without local anaesthesia.

Tyki muttered something about him having high standards before hissing anew as Allen tightened the stitches and fastened them to the best of his ability before appropriating a roll of bandages from the first aid box.

As the bandage first came into contact with the wound, Tyki tensed briefly before relaxing, slumping where he sat on a kitchen chair that had been brought along for the sake of convenience; relieved, from the looks of it.

Having finished with the kit, Allen set about appraising the damage that had been done to Tyki's shirt. "Your shirt's all bloody."

Tyki hummed somewhat thoughtfully in response, following him with his eyes.

Fully aware but ignoring it, Allen folded the shirt once and then hung it over the edge of the sink. "Body wash gets them out…" he began. "The stains, I mean."

Tyki sat up a bit straighter. "You're awfully cool with this stuff, you know?"

"I'm too tired to go into hysterics." Allen snapped the lid to the first aid kit shut. "Besides, you're the one who's been attacked with a large kitchen knife."

Tyki's expression shifted slightly, amusement now evident. "Fair enough."

**- ****o0o -**

Had it been up to Allen, then he would have returned to the couch, laid down, curled up and gone back to sleep. Tyki however had other plans in mind, saying things like "I'm hungry" and "Let's order pizza" to which Allen threw the now dry towel at him along with an "It's three a.m." and a refusal to compromise, regardless of whether or not there was a really good Turkish restaurant nearby which offered a twenty-four hour service and takeaway.

Ultimately, they had both been forced to compromise, though particularly in hindsight, Allen definitely felt like he had been the one who had gotten the shorter straw. After all, after a bit of negotiation, Tyki had proved perfectly willing to settle for some heated leftovers if only Allen agreed to drink with him, a deal to which the latter's tired self had agreed simply because downing a few rounds of foul-tasting alcohol still seemed preferable to heading outside.

In hindsight however, after he had downed the foul liquid and come to experience the various effects that it had on him, Allen recalled the fact that he had adopted a policy to avoid it for a good reason. As far as age limits was concerned, he had seldom given much of a damn in the first place. As such, the idea of underage drinking hardly fazed him. The effects however…

For all that he was, Allen wasn't a happy drunk. Neither was he a sad nor a particularly aggressive one; just a tired one. Besides, he wasn't even drunk to begin with, but rather a bit tipsy and as such, him being tired had less to do with the alcohol itself and more to do with sleep deprivation piled on top of other things.

Tipsy or not, the fact did not change that he usually mellowed out, allowing things that would otherwise have triggered him.

Just the other night, he had socked Tyki in the jaw with a well-aimed uppercut for returning drunk and attempting to cuddle with him at that. Really. The uppercut had been perfectly justified, and neither Tyki then nor his sober but decidedly hung-over counterpart seemed to be nursing that much of a grudge.

In return, Allen supposed that he could allow for some degree of physical affection. People who had consumed alcohol were generally more honest about their feelings, and if such feelings towards him manifested as affection rather than as spite, then he most certainly preferred one over the other.

Besides, having dealt with a fair number of different people throughout his life, Allen found that he had developed a certain ability to discern whether or not they meant him any immediate harm. After all, though Tyki had definitely registered as a potential threat back there in the lobby of Ark Enterprises, there had been something about the other that had drawn him in, and judging from Tyki's reaction both then and later on, the interest was mutual.

Then again, perhaps calling it interest was a bit…

Truth to be told, they had probably recognised each other as similar, though the extent of this similarity had yet to be determined. Simply put, they were both misfits as far as society was concerned, and all that this entailed.

Besides, with him essentially freeloading the way that he was, tolerating the other's quirks ought to have been the least that he could do, even if they usually grated on his nerves.

"How was it, by the way…" he finally managed. "The party?"

For a brief moment, Tyki looked confused. "Party?"

"The other night," Allen clarified, rubbing his eyes. "I would have asked then, but your overly affectionate drunken behaviour had me distracted."

"It was tedious," Tyki dutifully informed him, emptying what little remained in his beer bottle before slamming it down onto the table.

"Then why did you stick around?" Allen dutifully wondered as the other leant back into the couch, slouching.

If anything, then the other's slouch grew all the more pronounced. "Because my brother's persistent, and I don't want him coming over now that you're staying here."

_Hoh? _

Allen leaned against the armrest at the opposite end of the couch. "How thoughtful of you."

Even without looking, he could feel the stare that was directed his way.

"You know," Tyki commented after a few moments of silence. "He accused me of being asocial as of late; of hiding a girlfriend."

Allen found himself resisting a sudden urge to snigger. "And what did you say to that?" he asked instead, honestly curious.

"Nothing much," Tyki readily admitted, accompanying his statement with a light shrug. "And then, he like started ranting and stuff, saying stuff like _"You turn up here all dressed to kill and then you just stuff yourself without even giving a glance to all the girls who've been drooling over you from afar…"_ and _"What's wrong with you, brother of mine?"_"

This time around, Allen did snicker, mostly because of the tone used. "Between girls and food, I'd also go for the latter," he then decided. "But what did you say?"

"I told him to mind his own business…" Tyki smirked at that. "And I told him that I would seriously appreciate it if he didn't attempt to embarrass me at every party or social gathering simply because he happens to find it amusing…"

Having never been to a high-end party, Allen found that he could only imagine.

"So overdressed," Tyki went on to say, smirk diminishing slightly. "People trying to one-up each other… pretending to be friends, despite being ready to stab each other in the back at the opportune moment…"

Allen found that he had little to say to that, eventually settling for a "Fair enough", motioning for Tyki to continue.

"And then Sheril accused me of having someone new in my life."

"And?"

"And I told him that I had acquired a new flatmate… and that we'd been getting along quite nicely so far."

"And?"

"And then he went all _"Tyki, Tyki, Tyki… not another one of those harlots!"_ before downing another drink in his despair, going all _"Raise your standards a little, brother dear! You could do so much better…"_ and stuff…"

Again, Allen could feel a smile tugging at his lips. "And then?"

"And then I told him that you were really cute, and had grey eyes and white hair and everything," Tyki said before pausing briefly to gather himself for what came next, adopting an expression of someone truly appalled. _""T-t-tyki… don't tell me you're into-…""_

_"Cats, Sheril, cats," _Tyki went on to say, his smile becoming strained, as if he was mentally recalling the night in question. _"'A small white fluffy grey-eyed stray… who used to stay at one of my neighbours' but decided to move in with me instead'_… and that's how it is, because that's what I said."

A cat? "A cat, Tyki?"

There was a slight shrug.

"He's allergic to them, so I thought I might as well discourage him from turning up unexpectedly," Tyki finally elaborated, shooting him a meaningful look before returning his attention to the bandage wrapped around his biceps. "Besides," he added, picking at it. "Picking up stray cats is a socially acceptable praxis. Harbouring runaways is not."

"I'm rather amazed that you had the presence of mind to think ahead, considering your degree of intoxication," Allen commented, somewhat thoughtfully.

"Being drunk doesn't make me any stupider than usual," Tyki returned somewhat flatly, sending him a somewhat pointed look.

"Than usual," Allen repeated.

"Than usual," Tyki readily agreed.

**- o0o -**


End file.
